Disclaimer: It's been a year; hopefully by now everybody knows CSI: Miami does not belong to me.
Author's Note: Wow; a year simply flies by, doesn't it? I missed two deadlines and had a Douglas Adams moment. I will always send my deepest regards to Mr. Hathaway, b8kworm, and SunMee; your collective support means the world to me. So many new friends have been made this year, however, the triad, in particular, must be named: Marianne, kdeb, and Andrea. Finally, I always intended to do a follow up to Nights Under, so here goes. So many, many thanks to Marianne! You rock my world to infinity. Finally, I love my betas.
Summary: If anything, the moment for turning back was six months ago when he gave her the choice to meet him for dinner. For him, his choice had been made the moment he walked up to Calleigh in the club.
Rating: R
Archive(s): Evidence of Things Unseen, Lonely Road, mine. Anybody else, email me; I like to go visiting.
Pairing(s): Horatio/Calleigh
Spoiler(s): None that I'm aware of.
Must read Nights Under the Full Jazz Moon first.
***** ***** *****Title: Full Moon Promises
Author: Laeta
Email: ladylaeta@yahoo.com
Chapter 1: Balcony Request
It was after midnight, he knew. She would be irritated, he would bet on that, too. There were things, though, that needed to fall into place before he let himself go.
Horatio heard her soft footfalls shift loose stones along the front walkway. The night amplified the metal on metal grind of the front door unlocking. He envied the erotic whisper of cool cloth against her skin as she divested herself of her jacket. Feet were bare, he guessed, where there was no echo of shoes on hardwood floors. The creak of planks, she must be coming up the stairs or already in the bedroom.
The clearing of her throat startled him; she always moved faster than he thought. His eyes were still clear so she knew he had not arrived at his intended goal of the evening.
He had spent most of the night out here on the balcony, with an ice bucket and scotch whiskey for company. Once the sun had set, he lit a few candles, but he did not really need them. The moon was full tonight. He had toasted the moon when it rose over the eastern horizon, thanking it for Calleigh as eloquently as he could.
His sketch pad was discarded on the table, a few sticks of charcoal scattered nearby it. He had abandoned it the moment her car rolled into the driveway. She would be looking for him, and she always deserved the whole of his attention.
She had yet to move from the balcony doorway and it was from there that she spoke.
"You look like shit, Handsome."
He chuckled, wryly. "I feel like it, too. Next time, don't leave me to my own devices."
"It couldn't be helped. I'm sorry."
"Don't be, sweetheart." He could not contain his own question, so he asked with a tease. "Did you miss me?"
She was not fooled. "I always miss you, but it sure looks like you missed me."
There was no point in hiding anything from Calleigh. She saw right through him. So he said the one word guaranteed to make her smile. "Absolutely." Then, he added a full smile, and she smiled brilliantly.
He looked at her for the first time since she entered the house. It took him a full five minutes to un-work his tongue. When he did, there was nothing to say, nothing that could ever adequately describe her beauty to him.
"You like?" She teased him verbally and visually, spinning slowly against the doorjamb.
His mind froze one pose and he reached for the sketch pad and a stick of charcoal. For an instant, he stared at the stick before discarding it and searching randomly for another one. Having found the perfect stylus, he hunched over the paper, transcribing the still framed spin onto paper.
He did not notice her trek across the balcony to his side. She used the broad span of his back for support as she settled herself on the armrest of his chair. When he moved to lean back, she moved with him.
He offered the bound pad to her, seeking her opinion.
"You always make me so beautiful." Awe tinged her voice as she studied his work carefully, taking care not to smudge his efforts.
"It's because you are."
She smiled, basking in Horatio's loving attention and flattery. Leaning against him as he lounged in the chair, she motioned to the sketch pad.
"May I? You've been busy tonight."
No matter how many times he said she did not have to ask, she always did. This talent of his was special, near and dear to his heart. She simply did not want to intrude, but that was exactly what Horatio wanted her to do - intrude into every aspect of his life so he was saturated completely with her. Even if that happened, he knew he could never have enough of her.
He shifted Calleigh against him, bringing her down to his lap so he could wrap both arms around her. Her hair was pulled and twisted into a tight bun. Later, Horatio would attribute his lack of judgment to the alcohol; for now, he carefully unwound her hair from its restraints.
She continued to flip through his sketches, studying them, absorbing what she could of the man who created them. He drew them for a reason, captured them because they called to some part of him.
Occasionally, she would stop at one and ask him this or that about it. He would cease the skim of his fingers through her hair and peer over a shoulder. They would discuss it for a while until Horatio would become distracted and return to his massage of her scalp. She ran out of sketches and relaxed against him, enjoying the ministrations.
It hit her then that she had missed him during the evening. It was why she had left the club fairly early and had sought him out. Her irritation rose because, really, no other dance partner could ever be as good as Horatio. The closer she came to him, in his arms now, the annoyance fell away, forgotten. If anything, these girls' nights out were good for creating this moment of quiet.
She was feeling the full moon, though. So, she snuggled into his chest and asked the first question that entered her mind.
"Horatio?"
"Mmm."
"Why charcoal?"
She savored the chuckle that rumbled from deep in his body.
"I expected you to ask why I draw first."
"I like being unpredictable."
"Don't ever change." His arms tightened around her.
In some ways, she knew why he drew. Every mind was a composition of the emotional and of the logical. The flipside was that the more logical the mind, the more emotional. While she had an easy balance of both, Horatio was on the extremes. In his mind, he saw things in perfect three-dimensional clarity, so to counterbalance, he drew in two dimensions. The shadows and lines he used only emphasized the down layering of three to two.
"Hmm, charcoal. I don't really know except I always used it while on the bomb squad. It was easy to draw schematics and circuitry with it. And the texture of sketch paper, the sound of using it -" He trailed off.
Calleigh understood. "It centers you, doesn't it?"
"Not as much as being with you does."
"Charmer." He could hear the pleasure filling her voice.
For fun, he tried again. "Okay. It brought me you."
He was lulling her to sleep; her nearness bewitched his senses. For so many reasons, he wanted to carry her to his bed and seduce her. He willed himself to simply send her home, hiding behind the transparent excuse of drunkenness.
"Can you give me one good reason?" She challenged him, more concerned than angered.
Horatio nodded, not trusting himself to speak. It was enough for her.
She closed one delicate hand over his mouth. "I don't want to know the reason. I just need to know you have one."
He kissed her hand, again thanking the full moon for its care.
"Twenty-four hours, Calleigh. Give me that and I'll have it out with you." He promised because in that time, he would have the one thing he needed before he could allow himself to think about making love to Calleigh.
© RK 10.Nov.2003